


Thrilling Thursday

by TineyMichaelson



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Magic, Slurs, Swearing, the word "gypsy" gets used at one point but he gets told off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9345878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TineyMichaelson/pseuds/TineyMichaelson
Summary: “You have no idea how he feels?”“God, I wish I did.” Combeferre groaned, not seeing the way the woman’s face lit up at his words. “I wish I knew how he felt. I wish he could see how I felt. Maybe then we would be able to figure this all out.”“I think we can manage that.”A Freaky Friday style Courferre AU





	

            Thursday, April 14 was going to go down in history. Les Amis de L’ABC had just won a small but great victory. For the past few months they had been circulating a petition for the university to designate non-gendered bathrooms. They had gotten nearly 10,000 signatures – even if many of those signatures had been people who thought these bathrooms would be great places to get away with having sex – and the university had taken notice. A hearing had been held that afternoon and it was voted in as a pilot project. This fall there would be non-gendered bathrooms all over campus, at least one in every building and two or more in the larger buildings. Rightly so, Les Amis were out celebrating.

            They had all arrived at the bar together. After the first celebratory cheers, a speech from Enjolras, and more drinks were passed around, smaller groups started to form amongst them. Some were sitting in a booth, talking while they sipped their drinks. A few others were out on the dancefloor tearing it up. Some had broken away from the group to socialize with others they recognized from around campus.

            Combeferre didn’t really fit any of those categories. He was leaning against the bar, sipping at his second beer of the night. Many of his friends had surpassed that number by now but he found that shortly after the cheers, the celebratory spirit had left him. He should have known better than to think, celebration or not, that tonight would turn out much different than Les Amis’ usual outings.

            He tried to keep his eyes off the source of his melancholy, but inevitably his eyes always drifted back to the edge of the dancefloor. The bar wasn’t terribly crowded, being rather early on a Thursday night. This meant he could fairly clearly see Courfeyrac leaning against the wall as he spoke to a petite blonde woman, their bodies much too close – not that it was any of his business.

            “Stop staring.” Grantaire startled him out of his thoughts as he slid onto the barstool to Combeferre’s left. “One, it’s creepy and two, it won’t help. It’s only going to make it worse.” He told the taller man as he waved the bartender over.

            “You would know.” Combeferre huffed perhaps a little cruelly, turning away from the scene as the woman tossed her head back in laughter. He settled his attention instead on Grantaire, who was ordering several drinks.

            “I would know, which is why you should listen to me.” He smirked once had the order and busied himself mixing drinks. “The way I see it, you’ve got a few options here.”

            “Oh really? Enlighten me.” Combeferre drawled. He had a feeling that even if he hadn’t acquiesced, Grantaire would tell him anyway.

            “Well you can go over there and stop it.” He started, not resting on that option for very long, knowing it wasn’t terribly likely to happen. “You could try to ignore it and get on with your night. You could go home and wallow alone in your self-pity, which is never as fun as it sounds.”

            “Really? Because it sounds like a ball.” Combeferre rolled his eyes as the bartender delivered the first of the drinks.

            “And the final option presents itself.” Grantaire cheered, sliding a shot towards Combeferre. “Or get drunk enough that it really doesn’t matter anymore and try to have a good time. This is a celebration after all.” Grantaire held up an identical shot glass, waiting for Combeferre to pick his up as well. He considered it before picking it up with a sigh. They touched glasses before downing the alcohol.

            Combeferre coughed at the strong burn as the drink slid down his throat. He trusted R, but whatever was in this drink was much stronger than the beer he’d been nursing most of the night.

            “That’s the stuff.” R groaned. “Just what you need to get through a night like tonight, am I right?” He clapped Combeferre on the arm, who was still struggling to get over the burning sensation as it slid further and further down his esophagus. “Get over it and stop being so antisocial. It’s much easier to forget when you’re with good company.” He promised as the bartender handed over the rest of the bottles Grantaire was waiting for. Grantaire took the bottles and made his way through the crowd towards the booth Les Amis occupied.

            “Love troubles?” A feminine voice asked from Combeferre’s right. He turned quickly, trying to ignore the way his vision swam with the sudden movement. A young woman was sitting on the stool beside him, although he couldn’t remember the seat having been occupied before now. The woman was staring straight ahead at the bottle display behind the bar, the lights from the dancefloor shining over her black hair. She didn’t turn to look at him and he almost wondered if he had imagined the question when she cracked a grin.

            “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” She purred, finally turning to face him. “Well, that’s a lie. I absolutely did.”

            “I’m sorry?” He asked, still trying to understand exactly what was happening. How long has she been sitting there? How much had she heard?

            “Love troubles? Your friend,” she nodded her head back towards the way Grantaire had disappeared, “kept mentioning wallowing and was helping you drown your sorrows. That plus the fact that you’ve been staring at that cute brown-haired guy all night would suggest love troubles.” She paused, taking a sip of her drink. “So what is it? Unrequited love? Secret love?  _Secret unrequited love?_  Jilted love?” She asked, getting more excited as she ran through the list. “He isn’t cheating on you, is he?”

            “What?! No!” Combeferre started. “There’s no cheating. Courfeyrac can do what he likes, we’re not- he’s not.” The words were spilling out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself. Why would he be telling this strange woman his personal griefs?

            “Unrequited then. Does he know?” Her cat-like grin softened with understanding. Combeferre studied her, wondering what exactly she thought of him - lonely, leaning against a bar while all his friends had a decent time, trying to ignore his feelings. Pity was the most likely candidate.

            “No.” He sighed. He’d already told her enough she probably could have continued the conversation on her own had he decided to not participate. “He has no idea.” He chanced a glance back to the last place he had seen Courfeyrac. He and the blonde had moved further onto the dancefloor and were now dancing – if you could call  _that_  dancing – very close to each other.

            “Why don’t you just tell him?” The woman beside him asked, bringing his attention back to her.

            “Too much at stake.” He shook his head, both denying that he should tell Courfeyrac and trying to dislodge the image of how close he was with the blonde.

            “Friends. Close friends.” She filled in the blanks making Combeferre nod. “But wouldn’t it be so much easier if he knew? If it was just… out there? The pain of being shot down can’t be as painful as the pain of not knowing at all.”

            “It might be. It might not be. I’ve tried to tell him before but every time I try… it’s like my brain panics and hits the kill switch. Next thing I know I’m babbling about cheese or the latest scientific paper I’ve read that I  _know_  he doesn’t care about.”

            “You have no idea how he feels?”

            “God, I wish I did.” He groaned, not seeing the way the woman’s face lit up at his words. “I wish I knew how he felt. I wish he could see how I felt. Maybe then we would be able to figure this all out.”

            “I think we can manage that.” She smirked, standing up on the foot rest of the stool to be closer to Combeferre’s height. His eyes followed her movements.

            “Pardon?” He squeaked. “What are you doing? You’re going to fall.” He turned and held his hands out to steady her. He had no idea how much she’d had to drink and how that might influence her balance.

            The woman leaned forward into his open arms and, without warning, pressed her lips to his. Combeferre was too stunned to do anything but stand stock still. The kiss was chaste, but it took far too long for his inebriated brain to catch up to what was happening and pull away.

            His head turned immediately to the dance floor to see if Courfeyrac had seen the kiss. He heard the woman beside him giggle as he scanned the dancefloor, taking a second to find him. They had migrated slightly as they danced, but Courfeyrac was still with the blonde and didn’t seem to have his attention anywhere but her.

            “Well your genius plan didn’t work.” Combeferre huffed, not appreciating a kiss being sprung on him. He turned to tell the woman as such only to shut his mouth with a snap when the stool beside him was empty. There was no sign of the drink she had been sipping either. He turned this way and that, trying to find where she could have disappeared to in such a hurry but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of her anywhere.

            “Hey!” Feuilly called as he approached. “The lightweights and early-risers are all turning in.” He joked, nodding towards the door where Joly, Bossuet, Cosette and Marius were all gathered. “Did you wanna walk with us or stick around for a bit longer?”

            “Did you see the woman I was talking to just now?” Combeferre asked, ignoring Feuilly’s question.

            “No, can’t say I did. Not really my type.” He drawled with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t realize it was yours either but hey, no judgement. Sexuality is fluid.”

            “No, it’s not like- she just was here and now she’s disappeared completely. She did kiss me though.” Combeferre explained, distracted as he kept searching the crowd.

            “Are you feeling okay?” Feuilly asked, resting his hand on Combeferre’s shoulder to steady him.

            “Hmm? Oh… yeah. I’m okay. We were just talking and then…” He trailed off, not sure how to fully explain what had happened. Maybe he should have asked R what was in that shot.

            “Maybe you should call it a night.” Feuilly suggested as he started to lead Combeferre towards the door.

            “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Combeferre relented, letting himself be led through the bar. It had only been one shot, but people don’t just disappear like that. He couldn’t fully explain it. He looked through the crowd once more as they approached the door, noting Courfeyrac seemed to be still having a good time with the blonde.

            They reached the group, none of them particularly drunk except for Bossuet. It wasn’t uncommon for this gang to be among the first to leave. Marius and Cosette typically preferred a quieter atmosphere than a noisy bar, Feuilly often had early morning shifts. Joly usually offered to leave early to take care of Bossuet, who was the first to get drunk and want to go home. Combeferre sometimes joined the early group depending on his mood and if he had an early class the next morning. They all waved towards the Amis occupied booth, Feuilly making an effort to point out that Combeferre was leaving with them so he would be accounted for.

            The troupe began to walk – or in Bossuet’s case, stumble – down the road. They all lived in the same direction from the bar, at least for the first few blocks. Joly and Bossuet’s flat was in the same direction as Feuilly and Bahorel’s where Marius and Courfeyrac lived the same way as Enjolras and Combeferre.

            Chit chat passed through the group idly, except for Combeferre who kept to himself as he thought back on the odd woman. They had just finished discussing his feelings for Courfeyrac. Why would she kiss him if not to get Courfeyrac’s attention? He hadn’t even noticed…

            As the group split, Cosette kept making an effort to include Combeferre in the conversation but he mostly answered in single words or grunts of acknowledgement. Realizing he had something on his mind, she let him be but made sure to keep an eye on him. They stopped outside of Combeferre and Enjolras’ flat first.

            “Are you going to be alright, ‘Ferre?” Cosette asked, turning the tables. It was usually Combeferre who asked if the two of them would be alright to walk the last few blocks alone.

            “Hmm? Yeah, I think so. Just tired.” He lied.

            “Well, get inside and text the group that you’re in safely. Then drink some water before bed.” She instructed with a smile before pulling the taller man into a hug.

            “Yes ma’am.” He grinned. “Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight.” Marius and Cosette parroted at the same time, making them both giggle quietly as they turned to continue their walk.

            Combeferre made it inside, quickly sending his text to the group chat as was ordered. It was their usual procedure for nights they went out together. They could keep track of everyone who had left, make sure everyone got home safe, and with it in a group chat everyone could see it. There didn’t need to be several texts between Amis asking about if everyone had checked in.

**Jollly [10:26] Bos and I are home. Barely. He’s too cute when durnk but less clumsy.** **  
**Jollly [10:26] lol durnk**  
**Feuilly [10:34] Ditto. Home. Baz, left some aspirin on the table****   **❤️️** **  
**Bahorel [10:36] Ew. Miss me with that lovey dovey crap.****   **❤️️** **  
**Combeferre [10:38] Home. Drinking water as I type, Sette.**  
**Marius [10:47] Cosette says good. We’re are home.**  
**Cosette [10:48] **❤️️******

            Combeferre tossed his phone onto his bed, shucking his clothes from the day. He felt a little better from the fresh air and water, but his head was still churning the night’s events and trying to make some sense of it. He climbed into bed when he was down to his briefs. He plugged in his phone, checking the time. It was just past 11:00. Enjolras wouldn’t be home for some time. He wasn’t a big partier, but with this victory he was sure to stay out and celebrate. Combeferre set his glasses on his nightstand and rolled over to get comfortable. Despite his uneasy mind he fell asleep quickly.

            Combeferre woke slowly, feeling fuzzy and warm. As he remembered the events of the night before, he was surprised he felt as content as he did. He had expected either a fitful sleep or a hangover when he woke, not this feeling of warmth. He cautiously opened his eyes, waiting to see if the light streaming in through the window would flare up the impending hangover. He was pleasantly surprised when the only side effect of the light was the usual sensitivity of waking up to sunshine streaming in. He rolled over to get his glasses when he registered what had woken him up in the first place. A noise. Very near noise. Noise of someone moving around in his room.

            Combeferre shot up in bed, looking around the room for the reason there was movement in his room. It didn’t even take a full second to find the culprit as a man stood in the middle of the room. Not just a man, but a half-naked, fairly fit man who was in the middle of pulling on his shirt. Combeferre scrambled for his glasses.

            “Shit, sorry.” The man whispered. “I was trying to be quiet. I guess you heard me tripping on your books.” He smiled bashfully, looking at the pile of books at the end of the bed that had been toppled. Combeferre was too stunned to speak, his mouth opening and closing as he watched the man dress. He hadn’t been drunk enough to bring a strange man home, let alone to forget bringing him home. In fact, he could perfectly remember the walk home and there was a distinct lack of… whoever this man was.

            “Thanks for last night.” The man smiled charmingly as he patted his pockets, clearly taking stock of his belongings. “It was, uh… pretty great.” The man blushed.

            “Uh…” Combeferre was finally able to utter, although it wasn’t anything particularly helpful to say in this situation. The man’s words and behaviour was definitely pointing towards having done  _something_  together the night before.

            “I left my card on your dresser so, yunno… give me a call if you wanna get together again sometime.” He winked at Combeferre who blinked in response. The man chuckled and ducked out of the room.

            Combeferre sat on the bed, still flabbergasted at the scenario when he realized that he should make sure this strange man knew the way out of the apartment. Furthermore, he should make sure nothing of his or Enjolras’ made its way out with him. He should definitely lock the door as well.

            With this plan in mind, Combeferre climbed out of bed only to find himself completely naked. He could have sworn he’d not completely undressed before heading to bed. He grabbed the nearest pair of briefs, pulling them on just in time to hear the front door close. He padded to the door and locked it, turning to survey the living room and its usual furnishings.

            The TV was still there, as was the dvd player. None of the collectables seemed to be missing from the shelves and Enjolras’ laptop was on the coffee table where he’d left it. Walking through the flat, he found nothing out of place except for his shirt laying across the sofa. The shirt he’d been wearing the night before. He certainly didn’t remember undressing in the living room. He picked it up, tossing it through the open door to his bedroom.

            Making his way into the kitchen, Combeferre glanced at the clock on the microwave. He knew that even though it was still early – 7:26 – he would never get back to bed with his head swimming like this, trying to make sense of the events that lead to this man in his bedroom. Instead he grabbed a notepad and pen from his desk, sitting at the kitchen table and made a list of everything he remembered from the night before.

            The first pass of the list had the broad strokes: the petition was passed; everyone went out; he had two beers and a shot; he watched Courfeyrac dancing; the strange woman and he spoke; she kissed him; he left with Feuilly, Cosette, Marius, Joly and Bos; he parted ways with Marius and Cosette; he went to bed.

            The more he went over the list, the more details he had to add. He remembered the brand of beer he’d been drinking. He remembered Bahorel’s silly additions to Enjolras’ toast. He even remembered Marius nearly tripping on the dancefloor and flailing all over the place to save himself from falling. He added more and more detail, trying to prove to himself that he remembered.

            Enjolras shuffled into the room eventually, stretching and yawning as he did. Combeferre didn’t even look up, trying to come up with more details to add to his recollection.

            “Mornin’.” Enjolras mumbled, crossing the room to go right to the coffeemaker. “’S he gone?”

            That caught Combeferre’s attention, his head snapping up from his notepad. “You saw him too?”

            “Yeah… was I not supposed to?” Enjolras asked as he set about making the coffee. “You weren’t really discrete so I didn’t think it was a secret.”

            “I have never seen that man before in my life.” Combeferre insisted.

            “Wow, you had a lot last night, didn’t you?” Enjolras laughed, although it turned into a yawn halfway through as he ran his hand through his unruly bedhead.

            “I didn’t! I had exactly two beers- not even, I didn’t finish the second – and a shot with Grantaire. I remember everything from last night perfectly. I have no recollection of bringing this man home. Look!” He slid the notepad across the table towards the blond. Enjolras reluctantly pushed himself off the counter where he was leaning to look over the list.

            “Some of this happened, but… I have no idea what half of this is.” Enjolras shook his head, grabbing the pen and scratching items off the list. “None of this happened.” He passed the notepad back, moving back towards the coffeemaker to anxiously wait for the gold it was producing.

            Combeferre looked over the list. Enjolras had crossed out almost everything after the toast he’d given at the bar. He’d left question marks next to a few things he hadn’t seen – the amount Combeferre had to drink, the woman he’d spoken to. He’d left Marius tripping on the dancefloor.

            “I walked home with them. I remember it so clearly.” He argued.

            “You must be thinking of another night. You left with R, Bahorel and I.” Enjolras told him as coffee started to percolate.

            “No, it’s not…” He got up, getting his phone from his bed and unlocking it. He walked back into the kitchen to show Enjolras the messages when he stopped in his tracks.

**Jollly [10:26] Bos and I are home. Barely. He’s too cute when durnk but less clumsy** **  
**Jollly [10:26] lol durnk**  
**Feuilly [10:34] Ditto. Home. Baz, left some aspirin on the table****   **❤️️** **  
**Bahorel [10:36] Ew. Miss me with that lovey dovey crap.****   **❤️️**   **️️** **  
**Marius [10:47] We’re are home.  
******Courf [10:47] Yes we’re are** **XD** **  
Cosette [10:48] **❤️️**** **  
Jehan [12:14] Home, goodnight darlings.  
Musichetta [12:36] Jol and Bos are passed out curled up its so cuuute  
Musichetta [12:38] It was cute til I realized there’s no way for me to sneak in L  
Bahorel [1:56] Ginger shit does that all the time  
Bahorel [1:56] Fuckin bed hog  
Bahorel [1:57] Oh ya I’m home  
Enjolras [2:08] Ferre N I R home.  
Enjolras [2:08] So is whatever his name is…  
Combeferre [2:08] ye  
Grantaire [2:13] And bringing in the rear – last home as usual.  
Grantaire [2:13] Wasn’t his name Daniel?  
Grantaire [2:13] Or David?  
Enjolras [2:23] He cn be Daenerys 4 all I care as long s he stay quiet**

            “This isn’t… this doesn’t make sense.” He shook his head, staring at the phone. “I remember so clearly.”

            “You must be thinking of another night you walked home with them.” Enjolras shrugged as he set two mugs of coffee on the table, sitting down across from the chair Combeferre had occupied. Combeferre sat numbly, looking over his phone and trying to find the text he remembered sending, but it was nowhere to be found. He closed the app and set his phone down, picking up the mug in front of him.

            He gulped down his coffee, hoping it would clear his head. Something was off, even if it was just barely so. It was like the time Bahorel had moved all of their furniture an inch to the left. It had taken them a few days to notice, but before then everything had just seemed inexplicably wrong.

            The proof was plain – the man in his room, the texts on his phone. He would just have to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t have quite the handle on last night that he thought he did. After the cup of coffee was drained, Combeferre resolved to forget it and go on with his day as planned.

            Combeferre’s usual Friday routine saw him and Joly meeting up for lunch before going to class together at 1:00. Combeferre had to leave by 11:30 to meet Joly with enough time to eat without being rushed. They often looked over their lecture notes or assignments for class together to compare work.

            By 11:24, Combeferre was stepping out of the door and sliding his headphones up over his ears. His book bag was slung over his shoulder, holding everything he needed for class, as he began the trek to the café. Combeferre kept his eyes up as he walked, letting the music pumping through the headphones keep him company on the journey.

            By the second block, he felt off kilter again. He started watching his surroundings more than usual, looking for what was different. The buildings and greenery he passed all looked the same. The murals and benches were where they should be. A few of the public bins he passed could do with a pick-up, but nothing seemed too abnormal.

            Five blocks into his walk, he noticed a man smiling at him as they passed each other. Combeferre smiled politely back, trying to place if he knew the man. He must have met him through an Amis event. Just as the thought passed his mind, a woman he passed smiled at him as well. He nodded in her direction, watching her turn bashful as they passed.

            Combeferre was growing more confused as he walked as more people were noticeably interacting with him, or at least trying as he kept his headphones on. He turned the volume down so that if anyone was calling for him, he would hear it. Perhaps they were just trying to tell him something – his shirt was buttoned incorrectly or his fly was down.

            At the next stoplight he had to wait at, he looked down and did a survey of himself. His shirt seemed fine, fly was up, shoelaces were tied. He took his phone out and looked at his reflection in the dark screen. It wasn’t ideal, but as far as he could see there was nothing on his face. He slid his phone back into his pocket and checked across the street for the signal. It hadn’t changed yet but the man across the road was watching him.

            He felt embarrassed at first, the man must be wondering why he was performing such a thorough examination of himself in public, but that changed quickly as the man winked at him just as the lights changed. Combeferre nearly forgot to walk, only snapping out of it when he realized the man was approaching him. He kept his head down as he rushed passed him towards the opposite side of the street.

            He kept his head down, his pace just short of jogging as he continued towards the café. He was almost there and then he would be able to ask Joly is anything looked off, or use a more reliable mirror than his phone. He tried to glance upwards to avoid any collisions as he sped, but didn’t see a young woman step onto the sidewalk in front of him.

            He plowed right into her, only realizing someone was there as he hit her. He instinctively reached out to steady her and to stop her from falling.

            “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He apologized, removing his hands from her once he was sure she wasn’t going to fall and pulled down his headphones. “Are you okay?” With his head up, he noticed he was only a few feet away from the café.

            “Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” She nodded, straightening out her dress. “Can’t say the same for the coffee.” She laughed, looking down at the to-go cup that was lying on the ground. By the size of the brown puddle around it, the coffee was likely full before it was dropped. He also recognized the cup as being from the very café he was trying to reach.

            “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Combeferre apologized again. “Let me buy you a new one. It’s the least I could do, if you have the time of course. If not, I could just give you a few bucks-“

            “I have time.” She cut him off with a smile.

            “Good. I was heading in myself.” He smiled back as the two started walking towards the café door. He held the door open for her, following closely behind. He surveyed the café as he joined the line, seeing Joly waiting at a table for him. He waved at Joly, who just grinned and shook his head. Combeferre shot him back a confused look but didn’t get a chance to see his response as the line moved forward.

            “What can I get you?” The barista asked. Combeferre ordered his usual drink and sandwich before looking at the girl to prompt her to order.

            “Another skinny latte please.” She asked. The barista nodded, punching it into the system.

            “Is that for here or to go?” She asked. The girl turned to look at Combeferre, letting him answer. She batted her eyelashes, making Combeferre’s eyes widen.

            “Oh, uh… I’m afraid I have plans. I’m actually meeting a friend for lunch.” He stuttered, pointed towards Joly. “Sorry.”

            “Oh, that’s okay.” She looked a little disheartened before turning to the barista. “To go for me then, please.”

            “I didn’t mean to imply…” Combeferre continued stumbling over his words as they waited for their drinks.

            “It’s okay. You didn’t imply anything.” She reassured him, grabbing a napkin before digging around in her purse. “Do you happen to have a pen on you?”

            “Uh, yes.” Combeferre opened his bag, pulling a pen easily out of a small pocket. He handed it to her and she began writing on the napkin.

            “Since I’ve already kind of put myself out there, might as well go the rest of the way with it, right?” She spoke as she wrote.

            “Sure.” Combeferre agreed, although he didn’t understand what she meant until she handed him the napkin. She had written her name and phone number on it. He stared at it, wide eyed, before looking back and forth between the napkin and the girl – Sarah apparently.

            “If you have time to buy me a proper coffee, shoot me a text.” She told him as her to-go cup was placed on the counter in front of them. She grabbed her cup, saluting him with it before leaving. He watched her go, only because he could hardly believe the interaction he’d just had.

            “Sir?” The barista snapped him back to reality, gesturing to the plate and mug on the counter in front of him.

            “Oh, thank you.” He nodded, taking his lunch and making his way through the café to the table where Joly was sitting.

            “New friend?” Joly asked with a grin.

            “No, um… I bumped into her just outside and spilled her coffee. I offered to buy her a new one.” He recounted.

            “Smooth. I’ll remember that one.” Joly chuckled.

            “I didn’t mean it like that.” Combeferre defended. “I just wanted to replace her coffee.”

            “It’s okay, I believe you. Is everything alright?” Joly studied Combeferre from across the table.

            “Yes. I mean, no…. I don’t know.” Combeferre shook his head. “Does something seem… different today?”

            “How do you mean, different?”

            “I don’t know. I don’t have anything standing out, do I? Nothing on my face or anything like that?” He asked. Joly looked him over carefully, shrugging at the end of his search.

            “I don’t see anything.”

            “That girl – Sarah – and anyone I passed walking here. It was all so strange. I thought I must have a stain on my shirt or something on my face.” Combeferre explained before taking a sip of his coffee. It had helped settle him earlier this morning, he hoped it would help again. “And then I woke up with this guy I don’t remember taking home.”

            “And?” Joly asked after a pause.

            “This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me.”

            “If you say so - well, not the forgetting you brought a guy home but the flirting, the phone numbers. What boggles me is that so many women have such bad gaydar.” Joly laughed, tucking into his sandwich.

            “Are you sure?” Combeferre gawked. Joly looked up at him, finishing his bite before speaking.

            “Are you feeling well? Maybe you should go back home and rest. I can take notes for you if you’re-“

            “No, I promise I’m feeling fine.” Combeferre interrupted. He didn’t mean to worry Joly. “I just don’t understand…” He shook his head. “Never mind, don’t worry about me.”

            “Still hungover?” Joly asked, reaching down for his own backpack. “Here, I’ve got something that’ll help. You definitely don’t want to sit through a three hour class without taking something.” He riffled through the bag until he pulled out a bottle of painkillers, passing them across the table.

            Combeferre knew he wasn’t hungover – or at least he strongly believed he wasn’t. He wasn’t entirely sure what he  _knew_  anymore. Maybe this was all some strange dream he would wake up from. Either way, he took the bottle with a gracious smile and popped two of the pills into his mouth. He didn’t need Joly busy worrying about him instead of focussing on the lecture.

             “So do you think we’re going to get into embryology this class?” Joly asked making Combeferre smile, happy the conversation was coming to a familiar place.

            “I hope so, I’m really excited to get into it.” Combeferre answered eagerly.

            Both men left the lecture feeling disappointed. The professor had to explain a theory several times, causing the lectures on embryology to be moved another week away. At least, that was why Joly was upset. Combeferre was upset because one of his classmates wouldn’t shut up all class.

            Combeferre recognized the man, Pascal, as a student in one of his tutorials. He was surprised when he took the vacant seat on Combeferre’s right, Joly already to his left. There were still plenty of empty seats around the lecture hall. Combeferre nodded in greeting while Pascal struck up a conversation. He didn’t mind, it was passing the time until the lecture started. Once the professor stood at the lecture podium and welcomed the class, he assumed the conversation was over.

            He realized he was mistaken when Pascal leaned in closer so they could speak in hushed tones. Combeferre simply nodded at the first few comments, trying to pay attention to the lecture and take notes. Eventually he shushed the other man, nodding towards the front of the lecture hall.

            “Oh, sorry.” Pascal whispered, stopping the whispers but staying leaned close to Combeferre’s side. He wished the man would sit back up in his seat to be less distracting, but the fact that he had stopped speaking had been a small victory.

            10 minutes later, a piece of paper with a few scribbled lines on it made its way onto the tiny desk he was trying to use to take notes. He stopped writing, his notebook covered by the page, and looked up at Pascal. He glared at the man who just smiled and gestured towards the note.

            “If we really must speak, we can do it later.” Combeferre whispered, handing the note back without reading it.

            “Like over dinner?” Pascal asked, leaning even closer.

            “Oh my god…” Combeferre groaned under his breath. “We’ll discuss it later.” He had no intention to make dinner plans with Pascal, but if it got him to leave him alone during the lecture then he would make the empty promise. There was nothing wrong with Pascal, he was a generally attractive man and made many good points during their tutorials. At the moment however, Combeferre could only think of what an annoying pest he was being while he was trying to learn.

            Pascal stayed quiet the rest of the lecture, presumably not wanting to anger Combeferre any more than he already had. When the professor dismissed them, Combeferre packed his bag and quickly bid Joly goodbye before practically running out of the hall before Pascal could speak again. He just wanted to get home where he would not have to deal with all of this for a little.

            The walk home passed as his walk to the café and the lecture hall had. He slipped his headphones on again to block out the people on the street who suddenly seemed so interested in him. At least when he had been walking to class, Joly was there as a buffer. Most people seemed too polite to try to cut into their conversation. Every person he passed on his way home that smiled or waved, winked or looked, all had his anxiety level rising bit by bit.

            He was so tense by the time he made it inside the flat that he accidentally slammed the door. He locked it quickly before leaning his forehead against the laminate. He took several deep breaths, trying to let the tension out with each exhale. He never knew how nerve-wracking it could be to be a center of attention like this. Thankfully, he had some time to be alone now as Enjolras had class until this evening. They often just missed each other on Fridays due to their class schedules. He was glad to have the flat to himself.

            He dragged his feet, moving down the hall to his room, dumping his bag at the foot of his bed. He turned to the dresser to dig out some comfy lounge pants, stopping when he saw the piece of paper on top of it – the man who had been in his room this morning’s name and phone number. Combeferre snatched it and crumpled it up, wanting to not think about how strange his world has become in the last 24 hours. He grabbed the first pair of sweat pants he came across and put them on.

            He flopped into bed, burying himself under the covers. He knew it was childish and wouldn’t help anything, but he needed the comfort and the illusion of safety that it provided. He needed the day to be over.

            The phone ringing woke him with a start considering he hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep. He sat up, adjusting his glasses as he looked around for the source of the ringing. He followed the sound, crawling out of bed until he came to the pants he had been wearing earlier. The phone was in his pocket, right where he had left it.

            He checked the caller id, smiling to himself when he saw Courfeyrac’s beaming face greet him.

            “Hello?” He answered the call, his voice sounding gruff from sleep.

            “Ferre? Where are you?” Courfeyrac asked, his voice coming in clearly despite the din on the other end of the line.

            “Home… why?” He stretched, checking the clock beside his bed. 9:27.

            “Did you forget? We were all getting together to go bowling tonight. For Marius’ birthday.”

            “Shit!” Combeferre swore, scrubbing at his face as he looked around for the clothes he had shucked earlier in the afternoon. He remembered the plans. Marius’ birthday was coming up this week but he had to celebrate with his Grandfather on the day. After comparing everyone’s schedules they had decided to celebrate together tonight. Combeferre and Enjolras had already bought a joint gift for him, a new book on Thai – the latest language Marius was interested in – and a notebook to go with it.

            Courfeyrac’s laughter rang through the phone. “On your way then?”

            “Yeah. I just have to get dressed. I’ll be right there.” He answered distractedly, balancing the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he tried to change back into the pants he’d worn to class. There was a lull in the conversation. Combeferre might have though the call was dropped if he wasn’t able to hear the background noises of the crowded bowling alley.

            “If you’re… with someone… you could bring them with you. If you wanted.” Courfeyrac finally spoke, his voice quieter than it had been moments before.

            “With- huh? No, I had laid down to relax and fell asleep by accident. Why would I be with anyone?”

            “It doesn’t matter. See you soon?” Courfeyrac brushed him off, but the jovial tone didn’t return to his voice.

            “Yeah, I’ll be leaving in about five minutes.” He promised, swiping his shirt off the floor and holding it, waiting for the phone call to be done to put it on.

            “’Kay. Bye.” Courf chimed before the call was ended.

            Combeferre pulled on his shirt before checking the home screen of his phone – he was over 45 minutes late and had missed 16 texts from Les Amis: checking if he was coming, if he was okay, or if he was with someone else. He tossed the phone on his bed, assuming Courfeyrac would relay the message to everyone else that he was on his way to the alley.

            Combeferre finished dressing and brushed his teeth for good measure before leaving the flat. He put his headphones on as usual but blasted the volume as loud as his ears could stand. Normally, Combeferre was very conscientious headphone user, never going above half volume in his worry that the music would get loud enough to be heard by others around him. That was the point of headphones after all. Today though, he didn’t care. More than that, he wanted to use the hum of music as a barrier against anyone trying to catch his attention. He was tired of the strange day he’d been having and wanted to get to the bowling alley to spend time with his friends. If he could count on anyone treating him normally, he hoped it would be them. His plan seemed to work as he walked, the most outside interaction he noticed were a few glances his way and even those could have been reactions to the loud music.

As he entered the building and slipped off his headphones, he could hear Les Amis before he saw them. Their voices and laughter echoed through the space, even over the rolling balls and falling pins. It didn’t take long to spot them once he had entered further, seeing the largest group in the alley taking up the last two lanes opposite the door. Bossuet was the first to spot him back.

            “Look who made it!” He cheered, drawing the others’ attention towards him, along with many of the other bowlers. He waved back bashfully as the attention was drawn to him. His friends were all hollering and cheering that he had finally arrived, a mess of noise by the time it bounced around the room.

            Combeferre sat on the bench near the door to untie his shoes. He set them down near some of the other familiar shoes he could pick out before stepping to the main counter. The counter itself started near the door before turning around the corner and continuing down. The section near the entrance had shelves upon shelves of shoes. Around the corner it became the canteen for the bowling alley, serving fast food and drinks.

            “What can I do for you?” The clerk asked. Combeferre didn’t miss the way the man’s eyes moved down and back up his body.

            “Shoes, please. Size 13.”

            “Sure thing.” The man smiled before turning to search the racks. Combeferre rocked on his socked heels as he waited. Finally the man turned around setting a pair of shoes on the counter.

            “Size 13 and your rental comes with a free drink.” He stuffed a piece of paper into the left shoe. Combeferre paid him, smiling politely as he took his change and the shoes off the counter, quickly crossing the alley to join the party.

            “We were starting to think you’d forgot poor Marius here.” Bahorel teased in greeting, grabbing Marius around the shoulders and giving him a shake. Marius was powerless to fight it, flopping like a ragdoll in Bahorel’s grip. Combeferre laughed at the helpless look on the birthday boy’s face.

            “I could never.” He replied, setting the drink voucher and his change on the table before sitting down to put on his shoes. “Napped through my alarm.” He lied. It sounded better than ‘I had a bad day and laid down because I forgot I had to socialise tonight.’

            “Still feeling last night, are we?” Grantaire razzed, earning him a nudge from Enjolras.

            “No, no. Just a long day.” He waved him off.

            “Everything okay?” Courf asked, plopping into the chair beside him and resting his hand on Combeferre’s back.

            “Still feeling strange?” Joly asked from where he was perched on Bossuet’s lap.

            “Better after my nap. Nothing to worry about.” He affirmed, hoping the subject would get dropped, even if he didn’t mind the way Combeferre was rubbing small circles on his back.

            “What’s this?” Feuilly asked, picking up the paper from the table. “You didn’t get his number already, did you?” Combeferre looked up from his laces and shook his head.

            “No, it’s a free drink or something.”

            “Lucky bastard!” Bahorel crowed, reaching over and snatching it out of Feuilly’s hand to look at himself. Feuilly scoffed and gave him a playful shove in return.

            “Did no one else get one?” He asked, looking up as he finished tying his shoes.

            “I wish.” Grantaire snorted before taking a swig of his beer.

            “Looks legit.” Bahorel commented before passing it along the group. “Fucker’s always getting free shit.”

            “Seriously, none of you got one?” Combeferre asked again, looking around the group. “I just thought there was a promotion on or maybe because we were such a big group.”

            “We didn’t.” Courf shook his head and removed his hand from Combeferre’s back as the voucher was passed to him. Courfeyrac looked over the piece of paper with a frown before handing it back to Combeferre. “Lucky you. Next round is yours, huh?”

            “We’ll see.” Combeferre chuckled, taking the voucher. “Did you want it, Marius? It is your birthday party after all.”

            “No thanks.” Marius mumbled with a slight grin. “My card is full of free drinks for the night. Seems like everyone wants to get me drunk. Cosette is going to have to take care of me tonight I’m afraid.”

            “I’ll take care of you alright.” Cosette declared with a smirk before planting a kiss on Marius’ cheek. Everyone laughed, Cosette earning a high five from Musichetta as Marius turned bright red.

            “Can we start the next game?” Enjolras asked as the laughter died down. “Grantaire thinks he can bowl over 350 and I bet him that he couldn’t.”

            “You’ll see, Apollo.” Grantaire warned, taking another drink.

            “Keep drinking, you’re just helping me win.” Enjolras threatened with a smile.

            “What’s the bet?” Combeferre asked. Neither gave a verbal response, Grantaire grinning while Enjolras turned as red as Marius, making everyone burst into laughter yet again.

            As the game begun and the attention shifted, Combeferre really enjoyed himself. It was easy to forget all the looks and flirting from the rest of the day as he relaxed and bowled with his close friends. Even if anyone in the alley had been looking at him, he wouldn’t have noticed.

            After two games, he was ready for a drink. He felt to make sure the voucher was still in his pocket. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the clerk now that he knew the voucher was possibly a come-on, but he was going to use it regardless – a free drink is a free drink. He was secretly hoping that the man would be busy and he’d be served by another worker.

            “Welcome back!” The clerk grinned as he approached. Combeferre returned the smile, cursing internally that he hadn’t been so lucky.

            “Hi. I was hoping to cash this in.” Combeferre handed over the coupon.

            “Of course. What can I get for you?”

            “What is it good for?”

            “Anything in the first two rows.” He turned, pointing to the large, shining menu board on the wall behind the counter. “Pretty much any of the soft drinks, most alcohol – nothing top shelf unfortunately… unless you ask really nicely.” He quipped with a wink.

            “Just a rum and coke would be great.”

            “Coming right up.” He nodded, turning towards the drink well to start preparing the drink. Combeferre couldn’t help but wonder if it was vain to be enjoying the perks coming from the clerk finding him attractive. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, getting free stuff just for the way he looks.

            He dismissed the thought, turning to check on his friends as he waited. He regretted turning as soon as he spotted Grantaire, sticking his tongue out in his direction and gyrating his hips. Combeferre’s eyes widened and he shot a look over his shoulder to make sure the clerk hadn’t seen anything. To his relief, he hadn’t. As he turned back, he saw Grantaire laughing and started to walk his way.

            “Um, excuse me?” He called to the clerk, turning back towards the bar. “Any chance you could make that a double?”

            “Depends.” The clerk turned towards Combeferre, leaning forward on the counter.

            “On?” He asked cautiously.

            “If I can get the name of the handsome guy making the order.” Combeferre’s mouth dropped open. Even after all the flirting the clerk had done, Combeferre still turned his head to check up and down the bar.

            “I meant you, sweetheart.” The man chuckled.

            “C-Combeferre.” He stuttered, answering out of shock more than wanting to give the man his name. Nothing that had happened today compared quite to this. The looks and waves hadn’t been so forward. It could even be argued that he’d possibly led Sarah on this morning when he offered to buy her coffee.

            “Combeferre.” The clerk repeated. “Very exotic. I’m Greg.” Greg offered his hand across the counter. Combeferre took it, shaking it reflexively as his brain still tried to catch up. “One double coming up for Combeferre.”

            “A double already?” Grantaire asked, startling Combeferre. He’d forgotten completely that he’d been heading this way. “Are we toasting a proposal?” He grinned.

            “Grantaire…” Combeferre sighed.

            “I’m just kidding, don’t worry.” R elbowed him lightly. “You seem… off today. I’m just trying to get you to laugh a little.”

            “Sorry, I’m not meaning to be downer. I’ve just been distracted today.”

            “I get the feeling you don’t mean that you’re distracted in a good way. Wanna talk about it?”

            Combeferre was thinking about it when Greg placed the drink in front of him.

            “Anything else?” Greg asked, his attention solely on Combeferre.

            “I’ll get a Stella.” Grantaire leaned in to Combeferre and into Greg’s field of vision, showing Greg the empty bottle he’d brought back. Greg’s smile dropped minutely as he leaned out of Combeferre’s space.

            “Oh, is this your boyfriend?” Greg stumbled over his words.

            “Yes, we’re actually here celebrating our anniversary.” Grantaire answered before Combeferre could, wrapping an arm around Combeferre’s waist. It was a plausible story with the pile of presents and cake sitting near their friends. Combeferre fought not to laugh as Greg’s smile fell the rest of the way.

            “I am so sorry. Stella, right away.” He stammered, pulling a bottle out of the fridge quickly and sliding it towards Grantaire. “On the house, an anniversary present.” He offered before taking down the bar to make himself look busy. Once he was far enough, Grantaire laughed.

            “I should date you more often. I like free beer.” Grantaire smirked as he picked up the cold bottle and took a drink. “I hope you didn’t like him. I can go over and tell him I was joking.”

            “No, I was a little over my head I think.” Combeferre admitted, feeling less tense now that it was just he and Grantaire at this side of the bar. “I have no idea how Courf does it all the time.”

            “How Courf does what?”

            “Deals with all the flirting all the time.”

            “Courf?” Grantaire balked. “Courfeyrac? Auguste Courfeyrac?  _That_  Courfeyrac.” He pointed back towards their friends, picking Courf out of the crowd. Combeferre looked as well noticing Courfeyrac was watching them. As Courf noticed their attention had turned towards him, he turned away suddenly. Combeferre watched for a moment, thinking how unusual that had seemed.

            “Yes, that Courfeyrac, and you know he’d kill you if he heard you call him by his first name in public” Combeferre warned.

            “The last time I saw him try to flirt he made a Star Wars reference she didn’t understand and when he tried to recover she thought he was calling her fat. She poured her Starbucks over his head. Girls don’t ditch their Starbucks lightly. Courf couldn’t flirt his way out of a wet paper bag.”

            “That doesn’t sound like Courf…” Combeferre shook his head, sitting on the bar stool next to him. “That sounds more like me trying to flirt.”

            “Are you kidding me?” Grantaire snorted. “I’ve seen you pick someone up with nothing more than a look and a nod.”

            Combeferre barely heard Grantaire, stuck in his own head. He thought about everything that had happened today: since this morning people have been treating him differently, even if he didn’t feel any different. They were treating him like they were interested in him suddenly, like they found him desirable. Out of all of Les Amis, he would have thought Courfeyrac would be treated like that. He exudes confidence and is sexy as hell when he wants to be, but now Grantaire is saying his inept at flirting and couldn’t pick up a date if he tried. It was all backwards.

            It was like they had switched lives to a degree.

            “Grantaire, would you humor a hypothesis for a moment?” He asked. He knew saying any of this out loud was likely to get him sent to the nearest psych ward, but if anyone he knew could listen to the insanity and not judge him, it would be Grantaire or Jehan. Since Grantaire was right here and Jehan hadn’t been able to make it to the party, Grantaire was the winner.

            “For you, mon ami, two moments.” Grantaire responded magnanimously, sitting down beside him.

            “It’s been a….  _very_  strange day and I just need to talk this out without anyone thinking I’ve gone completely insane.” Grantaire looked surprised for a moment but just nodded, prompting Combeferre to continue. “It feels like I woke up as a different person this morning. Not that I’ve decided to change, but everyone around me has decided I’m different. People have been… noticing me all day in a way I’m not used to.”

            “Don’t tell me you’ve only just noticed all the flirting, you delightfully obtuse man.” Grantaire grinned.

            “No, I never have. I’m used to Courfeyrac being the one receiving that kind of attention. Now you’re saying that he doesn’t.”         

            “Not in the time I’ve known him.” Grantaire confirmed.

            “To me, it’s almost as if we’ve switched places. Clearly I’m still me and he’s still him, but… something happened and that’s not even the strangest part. I have a completely different recollection of last night. I remember drinking alone at the bar, moping while Courfeyrac danced with some woman on the dance floor. Do you remember any of that?”

            “No, not really.” Grantaire shook his head, looking skeptical. “I didn’t see Courferyac with anyone other than us and he left early. You remember something else?”

            “Yes! I was the one who left early, being my boring self, while he stayed until I don’t even know when. I was asleep before I got a text that he’d gotten home. I remember walking home with Marius and Cosette, and certainly not with the man I woke up to in my room. During the night, while I was asleep, something changed. Something happened. I didn’t drink nearly enough to have a completely different version of last night in my head. I only had three drinks!”

            “So…” Grantaire hummed as he thought. “You think  _something_ happened last night that caused you and Courfeyrac to switch personalities?” He clarified with no judgement in his voice, only confusion.

            “More or less. I still feel like myself but other people aren’t treating me like myself.”

            “Do you have any idea what happened?”

            “No. Nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. I was standing at the bar when you came over and gave me a shot and told me to stop being creepy and staring at Courfeyrac while he was dancing.” Grantaire’s eyes widened as Combeferre spoke.

            “What else did I say?”

            “You told me I had different options to get through the night.” Combeferre remembered. “I could mope, I could stop him from dancing, I could go home-“

            “Okay, this is weird.” Grantaire interrupted.

            “What?”

            “I had that conversation.”

            “You remember?” Combeferre gasped. “Maybe I just need to-“

            “I remember having that conversation with  _Courfeyrac_.”

            “With Courfeyrac?”

            “Yes, while he watched you dancing. You were nowhere near us. There’s no way you could have heard that.” Grantaire looked spooked, the hand holding his beer shaking slightly.

            “So do you believe me then?”

            “I don’t know… I don’t know what else makes sense.” Grantaire admitted before taking a long pull of the bottle, finishing his drink. “What else happened then?”

            “You told me to come sit with everyone else and left with your drink and-“ Combeferre stopped short, remember the woman he spoke to after Grantaire left. “I spoke to a woman…”

            “A woman?” Grantaire prompted when Combeferre trailed off.

            “Yes, she started asking about Courfeyrac. About how I felt and if he knew or if he was cheating on me or something… all these questions about us. I told her that I wished… that I wished we knew how each other felt. Then she kissed me and disappeared.”

            “Disappeared like left the bar?”

            “No, disappeared as in was there one moment and gone the next. Like a magic trick. I think she must have done something.” The two men sat in silence for a moment, the noises of the bowling alley washing over them.

            “So what do we do?” Grantaire finally asked.

            “I asked for this, didn’t I? This wasn’t what I meant but I had said to her I wanted to know how he felt. That I wanted him to know how I felt. Be careful what you wish for.” He laughed bitterly. “This is what he deals with day to day while I sit back and watch the people coming in and out of his life.”

            “Does that mean that this… version of Courfeyrac is watching people come in and out of your life?” Grantaire pointed out. Combeferre looked over towards their friends, seeing Courfeyrac watching them again. Instead of looking away, Courf waved with a weak smile before turning back to the group.

            “What do I do?” Combeferre asked, his voice quiet. He knew  _exactly_  what Courfeyrac was feeling right now because he’d been there. He’d asked for this, albeit accidentally. “I need to make this right.”

            “It seems like it started with a kiss.” Grantaire suggested. “You could try that. It always works in the movies.”

            “A kiss?” Combeferre squeaked.

            “Got any better ideas?” Grantaire offered. He really didn’t. Combeferre took a deep breath and reluctantly stood, trying to gather himself.

            ‘On the off chance that this works and we’re suddenly back in the right version of reality, what was the bet with Enjolras?” He asked, knowing full well he was trying to stall.

            “If I lost I had to stand with him holding up a banner at the next rally. If I won, he had to go on a date with me.” R grinned. “He should know by now I have many hidden talents.”

            “You cheated.”

            “Prove it.” He challenged. “Now go kiss the frog prince and set us all back on track.”

            Combeferre couldn’t help but huff a laugh at the reference before he squared his shoulders and began to cross the bowling alley.

            “Hey Courf, can I talk to you for a second?” He asked. Courf, who had been pretending unsuccessfully like he hadn’t been watching him walk all the way over, nodded.

            “Sure, what’s up?” He asked, standing and walking closer to Combeferre. Combeferre took his wrist and pulled him towards the hallway that lead towards the washrooms, hoping for a little privacy.

            “Ferre is everything-“ Combeferre gave Courfeyrac’s wrist a tug, pulling Courf towards him and kissing him before he had a chance to reconsider. Courfeyrac squeaked softly, standing stock still for a brief second before melting into the kiss.

            He was kissing Courfeyrac. He was  _finally_  kissing Courfeyrac. It was intoxicating, the feel of their lips moving together. He slid his arms around Courfeyrac’s middle, pulling him closer. Courfeyrac wrapped his arms around Combeferre’s shoulders.

            He felt Courfeyrac sigh softly, the sound swallowed by his own lips as Courf played with the hair at the base of his skull. It was everything he ever hoped for when he thought and dreamt of kissed Courfeyrac and yet so much better.

            After a minute Courfeyrac pulled away slowly, breathing shallowly before letting out a quiet giggle. Combeferre chuckled in return, grinning widely.

            “I’ve wanted to do that for… I don’t even remember how long anymore.” Courf confessed in a hushed tone.

            “Me too.” Combeferre agreed, the softness of his voice matching Courfeyrac’s as he nuzzled their noises together.

“Well then I’m glad you did” Courfeyrac giggled again.

“So am I.” Combeferre agreed before leaning in to kiss him again.

In his blissed state, the warmth of kissing Courfeyrac and holding him close fogging his mind, it took him a moment to remember why he had pulled Courfeyrac away in the first place. He broke the kiss and pulled back enough to be able to look around to see if anything seemed different.

            “Just a moment.” Combeferre pecked him on the lips before letting him go and rushing back into the main room of the alley. His friends had stopped bowling to watch Marius opening his gifts.

            “’Taire?” He called as he walked over. Grantaire looked up before moving to meet him halfway. “I don’t think it worked. Nothing feels different.”

            “Damn. That’s kind of the Hollywood go-to.” He hummed. Les Amis watched them, the action frozen since Combeferre called Grantaire’s name. “Well, it happened overnight the first time, right? Maybe it needs time to take effect. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and it’ll be back to normal?”

            “Yeah… that might be it. That makes sense.” Combeferre nodded.

            “What are you talking about?” Courfeyrac asked, having followed Combeferre a moment after he had left him in the hallway.

            “I’ll explain in a bit, I promise. Come back to mine?” Combeferre asked. Courf looked shocked for a moment, glancing over at their friends.

            “Uh, sure.” He answered, unsure of what was going on.

            “Have fun while you’re waiting. Never know what tomorrow brings, you know.” Grantaire jibed with a smirk.

            “We’ll see what happens.” Combeferre replied, blushing. “Keep Enjolras busy for me then.”

            Combeferre and Courfeyrac said their goodbyes to the group with apologies they were leaving early. Everyone brushed off the apology with either a grin or a twinkle in their eye, clearly happy that Courfeyrac and Combeferre might be on their way to figuring out their feelings for each other.

            The two returned their rental shoes, Combeferre not missing the way Greg shot him a dirty look for leaving the bowling alley with another man other than Grantaire. Combeferre paid it no mind, knowing there was more important matters at hand.

            “What is this about, Ferre?” Courfeyrac asked after they had been walking for a few minutes.

            “It’s… it’s very difficult to explain. Do you mind if we wait until we’re inside? It’s only a few minutes more.”

            “I guess.” Courf muttered, looking at the ground.

            “It has nothing to do about the kiss we just shared or how I feel about you.”  Combeferre promised, although that’s most certainly what it was entirely about. “That kiss and what I said, about wanted to kiss you, that isn’t any different now than it was then.” In a move bolder than he was used to – he blamed this strange, backwards universe – he took Courf’s hand in his own. The mega-watt smile he got in return was so worth the risk.

            “Okay. As long as you meant it because so did I.”

            The two walked the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, sharing shy glances and laughing when they caught the other’s eye. When they got inside, Combeferre made a pot of tea as he braced himself to explain this to Courfeyrac.

            Combeferre sat next to him on the couch, setting the two mugs of tea on the table in front of them. Courfeyrac looked anxious, but he didn’t rush him.

            “I’m going to ask you to hear me out. I know how ridiculous this is going to sound, but I just need to explain all of it. Once I’m done, I’ll answer any questions you have, okay?” Combeferre begged.

            ‘Just… you’re not dying or something, are you?” Courfeyrac asked.

            “No, I’m not dying.” Combeferre promised.

            “Okay.” Courf sighed in relief. “Left alone with my thoughts the whole walk… never know where they’ll take you.” He chuckled. “Go ahead then.”

            With a deep breath, Combeferre started the tale. He began by explaining the version of the night before he remembered, the version he knew didn’t happen. Courfeyrac gave him skeptical looks but didn’t interrupt. He explained the conversation with Grantaire, Courfeyrac looking surprised he could know the words said. He moved onto the woman who he believed caused all of it, the fact that he’d wished they knew how each other felt. He finished by explaining his conversation with R at the bowling alley, how they had a theory on how to fix everything. When he was done, he took a long sip of the now cold tea, both to soothe his throat after talking so long and to busy himself.

            “You kissed me to get back to this other version of reality that you know?” Courfeyrac asked after a moment of silence.

            “No! Yes, but…” Combeferre struggled. “I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for years before any of this happened. This wasn’t just to get back to my version of reality, it just so happens that it was the first time I felt like I could kiss you and it wouldn’t ruin our friendship. I want us to be together but… not like this. This isn’t us.”

            “In your “normal,” I’m the way you are then? I’m the center of attention, outgoing and flirty and you’re…”

            “I’m so not that. I’m reserved, I guess. I help Enjolras plan, but stay in the background.”

            “That doesn’t sound like you.” Courf shook his head. “You’re great at planning but… reserved?”

            “I’m telling you the truth, Courf. Do you believe me?” Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac didn’t answer right away, still digesting all the information. Those seconds of silence felt like a lifetime to Combeferre, his heart in his throat as he waited.

            “I do. As outrageous as it sounds, I don’t know why you would lie about this.” Combeferre felt relieved, breath he didn’t know he’d been holding escaping in a sigh. He reached across the couch cushion to take Courfeyrac’s hand in his own. “You and R, you think that tonight something will fix? All because we kissed?”

            “That’s the hope.”

            “And what happens to this? What happens to this world and this version of us?”

            “I don’t know.” Combeferre admitted grimly. “But I promise you that the very first thing I plan to do, if no one else remembers any of this, is to find you and confess how I feel. Put everything out there so neither of us have to go through this anymore.”

            “And how do you feel?” Courf asked. “Aside from the kissing you haven’t really told me.”

            “I very nearly love you, Courfeyrac.” Combeferre confessed, moving closer on the couch. “I have for years, since we met I think. The only thing that’s held me back from falling completely in love with you is the fear of getting hurt.”

            “I’d never hurt you, Ferre.” Courf whispered. “Not in this universe or the next. I wish I’d known sooner you felt like this.”

            “I guess in a way her plan worked, didn’t it?” Combeferre chuckled. “I wanted each of us to know how the other felt. I didn’t quite mean to this extent but I got what I wanted out of it, didn’t I?”

            “We know now.” Courfeyrac agreed, resting his hand on Combeferre’s shoulder and pulling him into a kiss. When they parted, Combeferre glanced at the clock – 11:37.

            “Any chance you’re feeling tired?” He asked.

            “Not really.” Courf shrugged.

            “Me either. I’m worried I’ll be too anxious to sleep.”

            “Well, we can go lay down. Maybe we’ll just drift off.” Courf suggested, standing up while still holding Combeferre’s hand.

            “Are you sure?” He asked, standing as well.

            “We’ve shared a bed before, ‘Ferre. It’s not that big of a deal. We just might kiss a little more than we did before.” Courf grinned, pulling Combeferre towards his room.

            “A little?” He retorted with a sparkle in his eye.

            “Or a lot. We’ll see where the night takes us.” Courfeyrac laughed. The two climbed into Ferre’s bed, just big enough for the two to fit in together. Although there was room, they snuggled together immediately, embracing the other as their legs tangled together. Combeferre could feel every inhale and exhale Courf took, their chests pressing together and their breaths mingling between them on the pillow.

            “You could take of your jeans if they’re not comfortable.” Combeferre offered, his voice hushed.

            “If you’re trying to convince me that you’re some shy, reserved guy and not the suave Combeferre I know, you’re failing.’ Courf retaliated with a laugh.

            “That’s not what I meant- I was just…” Combeferre stuttered, his face warm. Courfeyrac silenced him with a kiss. One kiss turned into two, then three, and then more. They started as a soft and delicate but quickly escalated. The two pressed closer together, hands wrapping around waists or tangling in hair. Gasps and quiet moans were barely heard as they were swallowed by the other’s lips. Hands wandered as tongues met, cold hands sneaking under clothes.

            “Courf…” Combeferre pulled back, question in his eyes. “We don’t have to.”

            “We only have tonight, right?” Courfeyrac breathed, his eyes dark. “Let me have you for tonight.”

 

            Combeferre woke feeling heavy. The kind of heavy when you’re so comfy you feel like you could sink into the mattress and disappear at any moment. The kind of heavy where you’re so happy you could never move again and die happy. The kind of heavy where there’s someone laying right on top of you.

            Combeferre’s eyes shot open, blinking wildly as he adjusted to the light streaming in the room from the window. Even without his glasses on, he easily identified the mop of brown curls resting on his chest, the expanse of tan skin draped over the rest of him. He let his head drop back onto the pillow, feeling conflicted. He was thrilled about last night, but why hadn’t everything gone back to normal? He squinted to read the clock on his bedside table, seeing it was just past eight in the morning.

            They kissed. They… more than kissed. Why hadn’t it worked? He had expected to wake up alone but here they were.

            Courfeyrac snuffled and nuzzled closer to Combeferre as he began to wake. Combeferre reached a hand down, carding it though the mess of curls. As disappointed as he was that he hadn’t fixed everything, he was happy he was waking next to Courfeyrac.

            “Ferre?” Courf mumbled against his chest, looking around with bleary eyes.

            “I’m here.” He whispered back, leaning down to press a kiss to Courf’s forehead. Courf smiled sleepily at that, running his hand up Combeferre’s chest. Combeferre could see him remembering the night before as his expression changed from sleepy and sated to disappointment.

            “It didn’t work?”

            “I don’t think so, no.” Combeferre sighed.

            “But we kissed.” Courf sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “We kissed  _a lot_. We had sex.” Courfeyrac blushed, pulling the covers closer to make sure he was covered.

            “I know.” Combeferre caressed his cheek. “There was no guarantee this was the fix though.”

            “What if it is fixed? Maybe we’re supposed to wake up together. Maybe you’re not attractive anymore.”

            “Wow.” Combeferre laughed, taking his hand back. “Just what a guy wants to hear from the man he slept with the night before.”

            “You know what I meant.” Courfeyrac huffed, swatting Combeferre’s chest.

            “Do you feel any different?” Combeferre asked, shimmying up the bed to sit up against the headboard.

            “I don’t think so. Not really.” Courf admitted.

            “Then I don’t think it worked. I don’t feel any different and this…” He gestured to Courf, the way he was hiding himself behind the covers like he was too shy to be naked in the daylight. “This isn’t Courfeyrac.”

            “I could be. Tell me what he’s like, I can be your Courfeyrac.” Courf pled, pushing the covers down until they were sitting low on his hips, his face and chest turning red. “I  _am_  your Courfeyrac.”

            “I didn’t mean it like that.” Combeferre sighed before kissing Courf softly. “Both of us will be so much happier with we figure this out. Set things right, the way they’re supposed to be.”

            “We’re supposed to be together. That’s what that crazy woman wanted, isn’t it? That’s all that matters!”

            “Courf-“

            “No! What’s wrong with _me_? Why do you need some other version of me? Some  _better_  version of me? You make it sound like I wouldn’t give you the time of day before this all changed and now here I am! I’m here in your bed and I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

            “Courfeyrac, please. This isn’t-“

            “You make it sound like I was so horrible to you.”

            “You’re not. You aren’t. You didn’t know how I felt. You weren’t trying to hurt me by being with other people. I never made my feelings clear to you. If I did, you wouldn’t be like that.” Combeferre tried to explain, feeling himself losing control of the situation.

            “How do you know things would be different?” Courf asked, voice cracking. “I’m right here willing to be with you, willing to be everything I can for you and you’d rather have  _him_. You’d risk all of this to be with a version of me that might not even feel the same way about you.” Courfeyrac threw off the covers and began digging around the room for the clothes he’d taken off the night before.

            “You’re the same person, Coureyrac. In both realities, you’re the same person. You have to feel same about me because it’s us. It’s still us. It’s still you and your feelings.” Combeferre argued, although he couldn’t stop the seeds of doubt blossoming.

            “Yeah, well right now I don’t know how I feel about you.” He huffed, pulling his jeans on.

            “Courf. Auguste, please.”

            “When you decide that this version of me is good enough, come find me. I hope for your sake by then I’m still waiting around for you. I’ve waited for years and this is what I get.” He scoffed. “Did you mean any of it? All of this stupid different realities bullshit or was it all a ploy to get me in your bed and throw me out?”

            “Courfeyrac, I’d never do that to you.” Combeferre implored, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed. As he advanced, Courfeyrac backed away. The movement stopped him in his tracks, not wanting to chase Courfeyrac out any more than he already unintentionally was. “It’s all true, I swear it. The things I’ve seen, I couldn’t know these things – the conversation you and Grantaire had! I couldn’t know about it unless I had it with him too.”

            “Or he helped you plan this. How do I know that when you two were chumming it up at the bowling alley you didn’t say “You know what would be really funny? Let’s mess with Courfeyrac.” Gods, how did I not see this before? I should have known I’d get hurt with you and your revolving door policy.” Courfeyrac glared at Combeferre. “I really hoped I meant more to you than that.” He spat before storming out of the room.

            “Courf!” Combeferre jumped up to chase him, not caring that he was naked. He tripped in the bedsheets, letting Courfeyrac get away faster than he could catch up. Courfeyrac had the door slammed behind him by the time Combeferre made it to the living room. He reached the door and leaned against it, his face scrunched up in pain. He thumped his head on the laminate as he tried to think how he could fix this. Moments ago he and Courfeyrac were happy, they’d figured everything out, and now he might lose him completely because of this… this  _curse_. He never wanted to hurt him.

            “Fuck.” He hissed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” He screamed, turning and pushing over the table he and Enjolras kept near the door. It toppled, the ceramic bowl holding keys and spare change shattered against the hardwood, sending coins rolling across the floor. Papers fluttered to the floor, mail and flyers that hadn’t made it any further into the flat. It didn’t make him feel any better.

            He had to fix this. Everything was still backwards and on top of it all, Courfeyrac probably hated him. Courf thought he’d made it all up just to deceive him into sleeping together. Courfeyrac had never looked at him like that before, like he was the absolute scum of the earth. Before he caused any more damage, he had to find a way to fix this.

            He stomped back to his room, ignoring the way a piece of the bowl imbedded itself in his foot, the pain no less than he deserved. He grabbed his phone, calling the only other person who still believed him. He didn’t care how early it was.

            The phone went right to R’s voicemail once. Then twice. On the third call in a row, Grantaire answered.

            “Hnng?” His strained voice crackled through the phone.

            “Get up. I need your help before this gets any worse.” Combeferre ordered, pulling the shard of ceramic out of his foot.

            “Who? What?” Grantaire grumbled.

            “He hates me. He thinks I made it up just to fuck him and get rid of him. He thinks you helped.”

            “Oh shit.”

            “Yeah, oh shit. Get dressed. We’re going to find her if we have to scour every bar in the country.”

            “Who?”

            “That woman. The one who caused all of this. She’s ruining my life and she needs to fix it.” Combeferre growled.

            “Oh, right. Okay. I guess it didn’t work then.”

            “Thanks for catching up, no it didn’t fucking work! The only thing that happened is that everything between me and Courfeyrac is fucking ruined!” He shouted.

            “Woah, okay. It’s okay. We’ll find her. We’ll make her tell us how to fix it. If anyone can help you search the bars of the city for one specific, weird-ass barfly, I’m you man.”

            “Meet me outside the bar in 15 minutes.” Combeferre commanded before hanging up, not bothering to wait for Grantaire’s response. He dressed quickly, not paying much attention to the clothes he was putting on. In his anger, he just wanted to find this woman as fast as possible. The ceramic crunched and broke further under his shoes as he stormed out of the flat.

            He reached the bar in record time, practically speed walking the whole way there. He checked his phone, seeing Grantaire still had 3 minutes to get there. He waited a minute before giving up, too impatient to wait. There was no guarantee she was in there now or they would know who she is. They had a lot of ground to cover if the employees here couldn’t help and he needed to strike it off the list.

            “Hold up, I’m here!” He heard Grantaire shout from down the road as Combeferre opened the door. He saw Grantaire jogging up the street. “Sorry, I tried to wake Enjolras.”

            “Well that was a mistake.” Combeferre deadpanned. Having lived with Enjolras for years, he knew better than anyone that it took at least 10 minutes to wake Enjolras up.

            “I know, I know. I ended up just leaving him a note.” Grantaire tried to explain but Combeferre was already walking through the door and into the bar.

            It was too early for anyone to be drinking, the only people in the building were employees that were cleaning or restocking the bar before the Saturday night crowd that was sure to show up and party hard. The dim bar lighting and flashing dancefloor lights were gone, plain overhead lighting illuminating the entire bar and literally casting it in a different light. Every secluded dark nook and cranny that was used to feign privacy during the night was brightly lit for cleaning.

            “I do not want to know what that stain is.” Grantaire mumbled under his breath.

            “Yeah, be glad you’re not the one cleaning it.” A tall bearded man called to them as he wheeled a mop and bucket out of a supply cupboard behind the bar. “We’re closed, gentlemen.”

            “We’re not here to drink, we’re looking for someone.” Grantaire approached him, Combeferre following close behind.

            “Do you realize how many people pass through here on a daily basis?” The man laughed. “Next time get their number before they run off, okay?”

            “That’s not what this is about.” Combeferre told him firmly. The man stopped walking with the mop and took stock of Combeferre at his tone of voice. “I’m looking for a woman, shorter than me by about a foot, maybe a foot and a half. She had long black hair past her shoulder and darker coloured eyes.” The man’s exasperated look started to fade as he listened to Combeferre’s description. “She was wearing dark pants, they looked purple but I don’t know if that was just the light-“

            “Eponine!” The man screamed angrily. Combeferre and Grantaire jumped at the outburst, sharing a quick look. Grantaire shrugged.

            “What have you been doing now, you witch?!” The man marched towards the bar, Combeferre and Grantaire following hesitantly behind him. A head of hair appeared above the bar top, followed closely by a set of eyes. The eyes widened when they spotted the trio approaching and vanished beneath the bar with a squeak.

            “Oh no you don’t. You get up here right now and fix this!” The man warned, turning behind the bar and descending until Grantaire and Combeferre couldn’t see him anymore. Combeferre and Grantaire both leaned over the bar to see where he’d gone.

            A trap door was propped open, stairs leading downwards into a cold storage room. From where they stood, Combeferre and Grantaire could see a few shelves with cases of alcohol on them. With the door closed and the light dimmed, the room would be impossible to find unless you already knew it was there.

            “That could explain why you thought she disappeared.” Grantaire mused, reaching for a glass behind the bar. Combeferre turned to watch him as he started to pour himself a drink.

            “A little early, don’t you think?”

            “I had 15 minutes to get here. Didn’t leave a lot of room to pick up some caffeine. This will have to do.” Grantaire replied, watching the glass fill to not over pour. He released the tap and was about to pull the drink towards himself when a small hand clasped around his wrist, making both men jump.

            “You’re not the right one.” The woman spoke, studying Grantaire. “What happened to the right one? Did you already chase him off?”

            “You!” Combeferre shouted, pointing at her. “You’re the one who chased him off. You’re the one who did all this!”

            “Me? Please, your actions are your own.” She rolled her eyes before releasing Grantaire’s wrist, handing him a coaster to go with the drink he’d poured. “Go play, the adults are talking.”

            Grantaire stood stock still, looking back and forth between Eponine and Combeferre, not sure what to do. Combeferre gave him a slight nod, indicating he could go.

            “You’re weird, lady.” He mumbled, taking his drink and the coaster before moving to the other side of the bar.

            “Never heard that before.” She scoffed sarcastically before turning back to Combeferre. “So you fucked it all up and want a redo, is that it?” She leaned on the bar looking disinterested.

            “Eponine!” The man from before shouted as he climbed the stairs. “I told you not to do your gypsy shit while you’re working!”

            “First of all,” Eponine turned on him. “Gypsy is an offensive term and unless you want me to make your life a living hell, you’d do well not to use it around me. Second of all, I was already done my shift before I did any of my “gypsy shit.””

            “Fix it!” The man bellowed.

            “But-“

            “I said fix it! If you scare away any more of my customers I’ll skin you alive before I fire your ass.” He threatened.

            “Ugh, you’re no fun.” She pouted. She turned back towards Combeferre and hopped up onto the bar, dangling her legs over the edge. “It was kinda fun though, wasn’t it? Living on the other side for a few days.”

            “Every moment was near agony, can we just get on with this?” Combeferre answered curtly.

            “Ooh, someone didn’t seal the deal.” She sang.

            “How do I get back to normal?”

            “Honey, normal doesn’t exist.”

            “You know what I’m asking, enough with the snark.” Combeferre growled, taking a hold of Eponine’s arm. She wasn’t going to pull her disappearing act until she’d fixed everything.

            “Fine Mr. Cranky-pants.” She huffed. “But you can’t say I didn’t help.” She leaned forward and kissed Combeferre, chaste and quick like the last kiss. Combeferre was less shocked than the first kiss they shared and regained his wits much quicker.

            “Stop doing that!” He admonished but he could barely hear his own voice over the loud music pumping through the room. He blinked rapidly as his eyes tried to adjust to the flashing lights on the dancefloor, cutting through the dim bar lights. He spun around, taking in the sudden and drastic change in his surroundings.

Grantaire wasn’t at the end of the bar anymore. The man they’d been speaking to was nowhere in sight. He turned to Eponine only to find his hand suspended in thin air. He leaned over the bar, trying to see if she could have vanished into the cold storage room through the trap door again. His grip on the bar tightened as he started to feel dizzy, not sure how he got here.

            “Hey!” Feuilly called as he approached. “The lightweights and early-risers are all turning in.” He joked, nodding towards the door where Joly, Bossuet, Cosette and Marius were all gathered. “Did you wanna walk with us or stick around for a bit longer?”

            “Wh-what?” Combeferre gaped. He turned to the door to see his friends, the group he remembered walking home with on Thursday, waiting by the door. They were almost exactly where they had been the first time, even wearing the same clothes. Combeferre realized that he was back in the bar on the night of the celebration of their successful petition.

            “I said,” Feuilly got closer, yelling louder to be heard over the music. “Some of us-“

            “No, sorry. I heard you.” Combeferre interrupted. Feuilly nodded. He checked the bar in front of him, seeing the half bottle of beer he had yet to finish and the two empty shot glasses from the shots he and Grantaire had taken two days ago, even if now it had only been moments before.

            “So, you coming?” Feuilly asked. Combeferre looked out onto the dancefloor, finding Courfeyrac dancing with the blonde he’d been talking to all night.

            “Uh, no. I’ve got something to take care of. I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Marius’ bowling party.” He tested, just to see if he truly had gone back before all of this had happened.

            “Sure thing.” Feuilly nodded. “Have a good night. Get home safe.” He clapped Combeferre on the shoulder before making his way through the crowd. Combeferre waved after him before turning to face the dance floor. He took a deep breath as he looked across the sea of dancers, knowing he had to put himself out there and telling an oblivious Courfeyrac how he felt for a second time.

            “Might need this.” A voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Eponine holding a shot glass towards him.

            “I thought you said your shift was over.” He eyed the drink cautiously.

            “I lied.” She shrugged with an easy smile. “We’re the only two who remember anyway, so is it really a lie if he has no idea? None of it ever really happened.”

            Combeferre nearly laughed. She did have a good point. He wouldn’t have believed any of the story himself if he hadn’t lived through it. He would be forever grateful to Grantaire for believing him at the bowling alley and not dismissing the story as drunken ramblings. Combeferre took the glass from Eponine.

            “It’s not going to send me back in time or something like that, is it?” He asked.

            “Don’t worry, it’s just schnapps. Some liquid courage.” She laughed. Combeferre took the shot, feeling the alcohol coat his throat. It didn’t burn the way he expected it to, but in reality he had been drinking all night.

            “Stop overthinking it, it’ll drive you crazy.” Eponine told him as she took the glass back. “Now go get ‘em, tiger.” She winked.

            Combeferre knew she was right. There was no rationalizing the irrational. There was no proof other than his own memories and hers what had happened. It was best to just move on from now and make the best of it. She was the only person he could ask about it, so he had to believe her.

            He turned back towards the dancefloor. Not wanting to give himself time to do any second guessing, he took the first step immediately. The second followed easily. Soon he was making his way through the crowd with relative ease, his height helped him to see over their heads and keep an eye in the direction he was heading.

            He could see Courfeyrac’s face, the coloured lights bouncing off his tanned skin as he danced. It was impossible, watching him move like that and the facial expressions he was making, to not remember the night before – the night that never happened. Everything that didn’t exist from their first night sleeping together. The memory only fueled his resolve.

            “Can I cut in?” He asked, shouting loudly over the music. Both Courfeyrac and the blonde looked up in surprise when they were interrupted, clearly having been very focussed on themselves.

            “Combeferre!” Courf smiled widely, patting Combeferre on the back. “Of course you can! Emilie is a wonderful dance partner.” He took a step back, allowing Combeferre the opportunity to move in and begin dancing. Combeferre didn’t take it.

            “I’m sure she is.” He chanced a look towards her, noting the way she was eyeing him skeptically. She had been enjoying herself with Courfeyrac – who wouldn’t? – and was clearly convinced this was a downgrade. Combeferre had never been happier to be disregarded. “I was hoping to steal you away for a moment, actually.”

            “Oh!” Courf looked surprised. He stared at Combeferre for a moment, clearly trying to read what was happening. “Do you mind?” He asked Emilie.

            “Whatever.” The blonde scoffed before turning and cutting through the crowd. Combeferre almost felt bad for her but he was sure she could find another dance partner easily enough. Courfeyrac just laughed with a shrug.

            “Shall we?” Courf asked with a smile, offering his hand to Combeferre. He took it and began leading Courfeyrac away from the center of the dancefloor. Courfeyrac followed easily, trusting Combeferre as he led him further from the dancing lights and loud music.

He continued to lead Courfeyrac through the bar until they reached one of the secluded nooks that had been so easily lit up minutes before, now encased in darkness except for the occasional reflection of the dance floor lights.

            “You wanna dance in here?” Courfeyrac asked, a light teasing tone to his voice. “You’re not ashamed to be seen with me, are you?”

            “Not at all.” Combeferre assured. He gave Courf’s wrist a tug, pulling him closer. Courf stumbled forward into Combeferre’s chest with a huff. Before he had a chance to question him, Combeferre leaned down and pressed their lips together.

            The kiss was so similar to the one they shared in the bowling alley. Courfeyrac’s surprise making him gasp softly against Combeferre’s lips, his own not yet moving as he realized what was happening. Even though he knew their last kiss had begun this way, Combeferre couldn’t help but feel the doubts creep back into his mind. What if the Courfeyrac in the other reality had been right? What if Courfeyrac only felt the way he did in the other reality and this Courfeyrac only saw him as a friend?

            Only a second later, his fears were crushed as he felt Courfeyrac smile against his lips, returning the kiss as he brought his hand up to tangle in Combeferre’s hair. Combeferre slid his hands around Combeferre’s waist, holding him against his chest tightly. He felt Courfeyrac’s moan vibrate against his lips more than he heard it over the music in the bar. Courfeyrac pushed Combeferre backwards until he had him trapped against the wall.

            His head was swimming, feeling their lips brushing, the scent that was so undeniably Courfeyrac surrounding him. It was so much like before and yet so different. This time Combeferre knew it was real. Knowing that somehow made the kiss all that more amazing.

            Courfeyrac pulled away just enough to breathe, nuzzling their noses together as they panted into the space between them.

            “I’ve wanted to do that for… I don’t even remember how long.” Courfeyrac confessed, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

            “I know.” Combeferre breathed. Both men were silent for a moment as they caught their breaths.

            “Did you just Han Solo me?” Courf laughed, throwing his head back.

            “I suppose I did.” He chuckled. “But I’ve been waiting a long time for that too.” He promised, pulling Courfeyrac into another kiss.

            They were interrupted by a sudden flash of white light that lit up the alcove, reaching behind their closed eyelids to shock them apart. They were too entwined to separate, but the kiss ended as they turned the way of the light.

            Standing at the entrance of the alcove were Eponine and Grantaire, both smiling smugly. Eponine had her arms on her hips while Grantaire was holding his phone in front of him, clearly having just taken their picture.

            “I told him you’d want to remember this.” Eponine smirked before sashaying away. Grantaire watched her go in wonder.

            “I don’t know who she is, but she’s spunky. I like her.” Grantaire grinned.

            “Just promise me you’ll never kiss her.” Combeferre warned, feeling Courfeyrac snuggled into his neck.

            Yes - Thursday, April 14 was definitely a hell of a day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) This was such a fun verse to write.  
> Comments and kudos are always much appreciated.
> 
> And you can always find me on [tumblr](http://thoughagenius-isafreak.tumblr.com)!


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